Poem: A Hidden Psalm

A Hidden Psalm

“I have learned to kiss the wave that throws me against the rock of ages”

Today, the wave is a tumor
the size of an avocado,
sitting in Ms. Arta’s colon –
idle and silent and blooming.
Faith is almost impossible here.

The news, like most unexpected things,
hits me with a deadening shock.
The hot tea, which I have just sipped,
turns instantly cold on my tongue,
or perhaps it is I that have gone numb.

I did not come all the way here for this.
I did not step out of my home, put on
my nice coat to sit in a coffee shop for this.
I reach for her veined hand and lift it to my cheek.
She is shaking, and so am I.

My God my God my God.
All this dying, all our battered hopes.
How to cling to a Rock when I can barely move,
how to lift my burning face to You,
to find praise on these trembling lips

when all I have is why why why
and pull this thorn out of my side
and lead me to still waters, write me down
for only the good endings. And please,
good Lord, don’t take me by surprise.